And so, there was a very literal pool of liquid mana in that crater made by six Sukunas' efforts. The final remaining Sukuna watched as Ereshkigal floated, basking in the energy and even licking it from her own hand. Bit by bit, that pool was shrinking. He'd been wondering whether she'd try to drink it all or come up with another solution. Lo and behold, it was all being absorbed directly into the goddess' body. Some minutes passed before it was mostly gone, at which point Sukuna descended into the crater.

Ah, she was talking again, making no more or less sense than she did previously. Tight, light, heavy... full? That final word was presented as a question. How strange. Sukuna thought to question this during his approach, but there was little point in it. Instead, why would he not do something about that fullness instead? What was full, could be made empty. What was empty, could be filled again. Sukuna had emptied himself into Ereshkigal, even having his original body do the same. Now, he was the empty one. How would he fix that? Well, there was something well-known about the female Creators of old. From Creators came children. Children required transfers of mana to grow and flourish, and it was the singular one-way outward mana transfer available to female Creators. So... Sukuna would recover that blend of mana as a newborn babe would. When he reached Ereshkigal, one hand took hold of her breast, squeezing and kneading it with purpose. "Full? We'll fix that. Time for you to be consumed," he commented while staring down into the goddess' nipple. His word choice may have been a little queer, but Sukuna had his mind set on drawing liquid mana from the death goddess' body. Now, his form of gluttony would show itself as his mouth latched onto Ereshkigal's nipple to begin sucking away at her very essence. It was to be no simple or kind effort. Instead, he inhaled as if he were dehydrated, having no obvious intention of stopping any time soon.